Blood, Blood everywhere

We sit in the cave and stare at the wall, not tied up, at least not by physical shackles, but held by conventions, social agreements and apparent inevitability. We do not move so that we can give ourselves the illusion that we are bound by shackles. Only when we moved would we notice that there are no shackles. Illusion of a perfect world in view of the downfall, because the pictures tell us. No, it’s not bad, it’s good. We just have to keep going like we did before. Do not let yourself be distracted from the previous path that was successful. All live in prosperity. All have a refrigerator and a car and a television. If you don’t have it, it’s your own fault. A path of success if you just sit well and stay true to the illusion.

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Unaesthetized

There is no escape, not for her and not for all the others, hundreds of their companions. From the beginning she had no chance, she and all the others, because she had been born as slaughter cattle. It was decided. It was decided for her that she should be born to be murdered. Fattened up quickly. It only takes a few months. Too short a lifetime. But that was why she was born to serve the people. It was their property, with which they could do whatever they wanted. What is more, God himself had sanctioned it, had said that man could deal with other creatures as he wished. At least that’s what they say.

But what kind of God is that who approves of other living beings being brutally massacred? What kind of religion is it that demands that our fellow creatures be subjected to unnecessary torments?

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Stop Finning – an European Citizens’ Initiative[1]


Imagine you are caught, your arms and legs are cut off, whereupon you, mutilated in this way, are abandoned in a place where you perish miserably. All of this happens with full awareness. A horror show that comes from a particularly macabre thriller? Not at all. Because this is what happens to around 273 million sharks every year. The fins of the captured sharks are cut off and the rest of the animal body is thrown back into the sea. During this procedure, the animals are fully conscious and, unable to swim, sink to the sea floor, where they bleed to death or suffocate. This way of transporting the shark fins is particularly space-saving. But why is this practiced?

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They are just Babies

Max is curled up, curled up very tightly, in his box, in which he has to live in solitary confinement. Of course, he doesn’t have a name, just a number. It doesn’t pay to name him. He’s just a calf, plus a male that will soon be dead or somewhere on a truck shipped for slaughter. I gave him his name to give him a remnant of dignity, as if he had been someone in the middle of an industry in which it is only something. Something that will make money or not. He doesn’t bring any. He’s worth € 8.49 in this industry. The feed that he needs costs more, this cheapest milk replacer. Even that is still too expensive. His value is measured according to his usefulness. He doesn’t have one, not in this system, but for his mother he is the world. He curls up so that the cold goes away, especially that of loneliness. All he wanted was to be with his mother. Sucking, not only to satisfy hunger, but also because it is good for you. But he has to be there, all alone. He doesn’t understand why. He wanted nothing more than to be with his mom as it should be, nothing more than to live.

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No Meat From Abroad

“We don’t want to see meat from abroad on our supermarket shelves!” Is the tenor, “Not even at the trusted butcher, who you know anyway that the animal lived happily before it was sausage and filleted. You know everything. The animals in Austria are doing well, very well in fact. After all, we are among the countries with the highest animal welfare standards in the world, as announced by Minister Köstinger, Minister of Agriculture in our beautiful country. And she must know. So it’s also true. Because politicians never lie.

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Superfluous of suffering – superfluous suffering (3)

Forest walk. At the end of the forest are pigs that are kept in a pasture. An extremely rare sight. Counted 15 of approx. 1,500 grazing pigs in Austria. We bring you delicacies. They come running up, happy, not only about the food, but also the attention. Enjoyment of life. Now that we are there. Then it goes on to the other pasture.

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Superfluous of suffering – superfluous suffering (2)

Once we came across a fawn. The dogs actually found it. It crouched on the grass. Not far from the path. The dogs kept a respectful distance. The mother was nearby. I could hear them. So, we went. We left the fawn alone so that the mother could come back. It dared. It is safer for the mother to hide her baby than to take it with her. Many still think that the little one no longer has a mother and that they have to save it. Because we no longer have any experience with nature. But from where? Nature no longer exists. Isolated nature reserves. Even there is hunted. Actually poached. Hunting is a privilege. You have to be able to afford it. Those who hunt in order to survive, not to starve, without a license, poach. That is a punishable offense. Survival is a punishable offense. Trophies do not get hold of. Poaching as a means not to starve to death. That’s the page. The other. Poaching to make a lot of money very quickly.

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Superfluous of suffering – superfluous suffering (1)

Forest walk. A deer eats in peace. Then a noise. It flees. I see deer more often. Wild boars too. Rabbits hopping across the field. Deer cross my path. Leisurely. No, there is no danger from me. Only once was I lucky enough to see a fox. Very briefly only. Then he was gone again. You are scared. In front of man. Before those with the guns. But how do you know I don’t have a rifle? Deer seem to know. And wild boars. There are closed seasons. At least for the deer and roe deer. Not for wild boars and foxes. That’s why they’re so shy.

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Animal Welfare – Made in Austria

Anyone who saw the pictures and films of the latest revelation of the VGT was horrified, and rightly so, as I said. One saw mother pigs squeezed into crates and in so-called farrowing boxes. These iron frames are just big enough that the animal caught in them has enough space to stand in them. It touches the neighbor as soon as she lies down. The animals are littered with open spots and ulcers, some of them the size of a child’s head. In addition to the mother pigs, the piglets with their faces cut up as a result of the fight for the teats. Degraded to a teat machine that can’t help but crush the little one when it moves a little. She can’t avoid it. Babies who are dying or have already died, cooped up between shit and their siblings, of course on fully slatted floors. The garbage cans are full of dead piglets. So much for the starting point. Great excitement fell upon the people who saw it. I am now very happy that I can give the all-clear and that we can all pack our horror again. It is not the circumstances that are to blame, but our ignorance.

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The Pig in Community House

Ms. M. is sitting on the window sill on the sixth floor in a community building somewhere on the Gürtel in Vienna. She has a bloody knife in her hand.

The cars roll through the streets.
One big sheet avalanche.
An avalanche that lasts now and then.
Then it rolls on again.
Indolent and indifferent.
People sit in the cars.
Protected by the sheet metal around them.
People walk in between.
They almost all have a goal.
And if not, then pretend.
They try to avoid each other.
Look at the ground.
Everyone goes about their own life.
Slaving through, between the others.
As if they were obstacles that need to be avoided.
Beautiful and ugly,
Thick and thin,
Successful and unsuccessful.
It doesn’t matter from up here.
They all look like ants.
Small, hectic ants.
Busy and driven and scared.
This is how they spend their lives, their time.
And don’t see how pointless it is.
In the morning they close the door and go out.
To go in somewhere else.
They close a door.
Doors are carefully closed.
So that nobody sees what’s going on behind it.

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